


older than silver

by canoncabbit (counterserum)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aftermath, Childhood Friends, Drabble Collection, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Knotting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterserum/pseuds/canoncabbit
Summary: A collection of unfinished and unused fics about Misija and a FF OC / non WoL.-“And do you notlove me?!” Misija’s jaw sets in a hard line as she snarls at the smaller woman pinned beneath her boot. Raisa offers no resistance, staring up at her with an almost bored expression. The unnatural light behind her eyes flicks from Misija’s face to her drawn weapon and back. “You - of all people -youshould want them to suffer, to be brought to heel and made to endure what they put us through!”
Relationships: Misija Votyasch/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 8





	1. burn

“And do you not _love me?!_ ” Misija’s jaw sets in a hard line as she snarls at the smaller woman pinned beneath her boot. Raisa offers no resistance, staring up at her with an almost bored expression. The unnatural light behind her eyes flicks from Misija’s face to her drawn weapon and back. “You - of all people - _you_ should want them to suffer, to be brought to heel and made to endure what they put us through!”

Raisa blinks, and something in her features shifts as the hunger in her eyes dims, if only a little. 

“I _do_ love you,” She says, giving Misija pause, even as her gun is raised and her finger nestled against the trigger. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? That’s why I’m talking to you instead of tearing every ilm of aether from your very being.”

“I will never fully understand what you suffered after I left, but I do know what I went through - and what _we_ went through together was horrific and needs to stop.” Raisa heaves a sigh, and suddenly looks more tired than Misija has even seen her. “But what you’re doing will not bring freedom from the shackles of an outdated caste system to any Bozjan lowborn. You are merely taking the leash and handing it to another master with _no_ promise of retribution or relief.”

“You should have stayed, then,” Misija hisses. “If you loved me, if you truly knew what I was dealing with, then you should have _stayed_. You have no right to speak to me of handing the leash from the Bozjans to the IVth, when you yourself could not stomach the way things were.”

Misija’s boot presses harder into Raisa’s torso, it hurts, but still she refuses to resist. “Mayhap things would have been different, if I had stayed,” She says. “Or not, does it matter overmuch? I cannot change the past anymore than you can undo what was done to Gunnhildr... but I am here now, am I not?”

The weight on her chest lifts - if only for a moment - before a sharp pain in her side sends her rolling. Raisa looks up, gripping the spot where Misija kicked her, only to be faced with the barrel of her gun again.

“Go,” Misija says coolly. “Do not come back, I never wanted you to chase after me. I never wanted you.”

It is a transparent lie, but Raisa merely winces and backs away, reaching for her gunblade as she does. “I wanted you,” She says after a moment. “I still want you, Misija.” 

She hesitates, then whistles. The wind rushes through Misija’s hair as she looks away, and then Raisa is gone.


	2. devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (She knows, she’ll see utter adoration and devotion in those steely eyes, the fondest smile curled into her lips, and it is too much at once with the sweet nothings her mate wants to drown her in. She abhors and adores it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: knotting, biting / bleeding, mild fear / anxiety
> 
> \- mostly romantic, senseless porn -

“Good girl,” Misija purrs, punctuating the praise with a hard thrust that makes Raisa whimper all the more. “You’re taking me so well, my sweet, so well.”

Raisa gasps and turns her head to the side, biting her lip as Misija’s clit throbs inside her. It’s almost too much, too thick for her to fully adjust to, but she delights in the mingled discomfort and pleasure her mate draws from her with each buck of her muscular hips. Her praise, too, leaves Raisa in a frenzy of anxiety and heat, and she finds she cannot stomach to look Misija in the eye when she’s like this for fear of what she’ll see.

(She knows, she’ll see utter adoration and devotion in those steely eyes, the fondest smile curled into her lips, and it is  _ too much _ at once with the sweet nothings her mate wants to drown her in. She abhors and adores it.)

“Look at me, Raisa,” Misija growls, her calloused fingers coming up to grasp Raisa’s chin and draw her attention to the roegadyn as she picks up the pace, thrusting harder, faster. “I want to see my good girl fall apart around my clit, I want to see you cum.”

Raisa weakly tries to turn away again, but Misija holds her in place. “You’re so beautiful,” She groans, leaning over the vierqo’te to capture her lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. “So beautiful, and  _ mine _ , you’re my girl, my good girl…” 

The affection sets her on fire, makes her squeeze around Misija with heated pulses as she draws closer to her climax. Misija’s knot grinds against her entrance, getting a little further in with each erratic pump of her hips.

Raisa is a mess of heat and desire, reduced to whining and clinging to Misija as she’s held in place, made to watch the roegadyn  _ worship  _ her. It feels so strange and frightening to look Misija in the eye when they break the kiss. She is reminded of the way Misija looked at the memory of Gunnhildr - reverant and crazed,  _ devoted _ \- and shudders, unable to pull away. 

Misija’s length twitches so deliciously inside her, and she knows - she  _ knows  _ \- Misija is getting off on watching her writhe beneath her praise and bucking hips. They are rutting like the filthiest of animals and she loves it, craves it all the more even as the part of her brain that remembers screams danger at her. She arches her back and curls her fingers into Misija’s arms, staring at her pleadingly, and finds - to her surprise - that she also delights in watching Misija melt for her.

Her expression softens and she curls over Raisa, the hand holding her chin in place relaxing as those rough fingers stroke her cheek so  _ tenderly _ . “My good girl,” She croons, trailing kisses over Raisa’s cheeks. “My Raisa.”

And she cannot withhold her own affections, she nuzzles into Misija’s touch and chirrups, laughing breathlessly as she feels Misija pulse inside her. “Yours,” She answers, wrapping her arms around Misija’s neck to pull her closer, dragging her nails through the mess of shaggy grey hair. “Always yours, Misha,  _ always _ .” 

She means it, too. Misija  _ groans  _ and it is her turn to hide her anxiety, burying her face in Raisa’s neck, biting the tender flesh there and  _ holding _ as her hips pump erratically and her knot is buried into the soft, wet heat of Raisa’s sex. Raisa arches against her mate, reveling in the hot, sticky pulses filling her with Misija’s release as her own follows. She flutters and squeezes around the roegadyn’s clit, cries her name and clings to her as the knot swells and ties them together.

They lay nestled closely together, breathing hard and kneading each other, until Misija finally releases Raisa’s neck and presses an apologetic kiss to the broken skin. When she draws up, Raisa can see her blood on her teeth, and shivers despite herself. Misija reaches up - almost hesitant, nervous she’s crossed a line - and brushes Raisa’s hair from her eyes. She smiles, and that’s all Misija needs to kiss her.

That she can taste her own blood on Misija’s mouth does not bother her, nor does the burning where they are connected at the hips, her sex stretched to its limit around Misija’s still-throbbing knot. She can hardly focus through the haze she’s in, and leans into the warmth offered without hesitation. 

Misija murmurs something to her, but she can’t quite register what was said until those calloused hands gently grasp her waist and turn her over so she can lay with her, still connected. “Raisa?”

“Mm?”

“Are you still with me-?”

She snorts, slowly coming back to herself. Her neck aches where Misija left her mark, her sex is so deliciously sore and she knows it will be worse in the morning, but she feels  _ wonderful _ and full and loved. “Getting there,” She says, exhaling. “You good, love?”

Misija hums and presses another apologetic kiss to the mark on her neck, then nuzzles her ears. Her voice is muffled as she buries her face in Raisa’s hair. “Very much so.” She strokes Raisa’s hip, then draws her leg up to rest against hers, toying with the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as she does so. “ _ Very _ much so.”

It takes some time for her breathing to slow, for her body to fully relax, and by then Misija’s knot has shrunk enough to pull out. She lets out a disappointed moan at the loss, feeling the sticky pool of release drip from her and onto the sheets. Misija has not once stopped touching her, her fingers trailing all over her body and lighting fires over her skin in their wake.

“I love you,” Misija murmurs, her grip on Raisa tightening for a brief moment. “I love you so much.”

Raisa purrs and presses back into Misija’s touch, appreciating how warm and solid she feels. “I love you, too, Misha.”


	3. affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: no actual sex, reference to xeno anatomy / nonhuman anatomy, Misija + Raisa being weird w/ each other

She hadn’t heard that nickname in years, and something about the soft way in which it was uttered - so different from Raisa’s typical monotone - burst a dam within Misija’s breast and let loose all emotion she’d kept carefully under wraps. Without thinking, the roegadyn curled over Raisa from behind, her large hands engulfing the much smaller woman’s frame as she tugged her closer and dragged her to sit on a fallen tree. 

“Hey!” Raisa turned her head to glare at Misija, nearly dropping the small piece of pottery she had been looking over. “What are you doing-?” 

Misija’s answer was to nuzzle her lover’s neck and  _ purr _ \- low, affectionate - kissing the bare skin as she drew Raisa into her lap. She smelled  _ wonderful _ , warm and inviting, like sunlight, and Misija could only croon her loving words in the daze she’d fallen into. 

She was not in rut, but she sure as hells felt like she was with how much adoration was overflowing from her in that moment. The relics lay all but forgotten in the moss as she squeezed Raisa’s hips and held her, alternating between murmuring sweet nothings into her skin and marking it with her teeth. Raisa was  _ hers _ , she was here and she could bask in her warmth for hours to come. 

No highborn could take her, no legatus could take her, no more extenuating circumstances could part them, and she craved the feeling to keep this one good thing to herself all the more.

Raisa had ceased her protests and instead pressed herself into Misija’s wandering touch, whimpering most enticingly when gloved fingers splayed over her belly in a possessive gesture. Even through the thick canvas weave of her fatigues, she could feel Raisa’s heat pressed desperately against her thigh, and her own arousal  _ throbbed  _ in kind. She ached to carry the vierqo’te back to their shared tent and bury her clit within those slick, inviting folds, to claim her as a mate and revel in their love. 

“S-seriously?” Raisa nuzzled against the side of Misija’s face, flushed. “ _ Here _ ?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Misija breathed, nipping at the tender flesh under Raisa’s jaw while her hands continued to knead up and down Raisa’s hips and thighs. “Please, Raisa,  _ please _ .”

Raisa hesitated, then carefully squirmed free enough to place the pottery shard down before she draped herself more readily in the roegadyn’s arms with a shrug. “Sure,” She said, trying to compose herself. “Why not?”


End file.
